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Ohne Dich
One last search, I tell myself. One last attempt to find her. I'm sure if I go one more time, I'll find her, amongst the fir trees. That's where I last saw her. I decide to dress nicely, but comfortably and not too overdone for the forest. I look through my clothes, looking for something not too beat up. I pick up several abused pairs of jeans, black and blue. Each had its own unique pattern of scars, tears at the knees for one, a hole in the rear for another, and one who was missing the cuffs at the bottom. A blue pair was seared, likely from one of my many pyrotechnic mishaps. The blackened marks danced around the legs, looking like a mix between tie-dye and goth. I tossed aside the jeans and found a nice pair of leather pants, slipping them on over my ratty underwear. The pair bunched up inside, and I reached in to straighten them out, getting my thumb caught in a hole, which I proceeded to make bigger trying to get it out. After besting the old cloth, I went to find a shirt. My tight t-shirts were all dirty, and a tad too trashy for today. I found a simple black workshirt and slipped it on, like I had done thousands of times before, and remembered the rather few times I myself had taken it off. Sure, to many, it seemed like a glorious life, but I was bored of it. The seconds stand still without her. My memories swirled, and I looked to my notebook. I still hadn't finished what I had been writing, but I hoped I finally could after today. I found a clean pair of socks, no easy task, and put them on before lacing up my boots and grabbing a knife for safety. The wilderness is as beautiful as it is untaimed, especially out here. I could hold my own with a person, but a wolf, if I were forced to combat it, would kill me without protection. The sun was lowering in the sky, turning from a yellow-white to a glorious orange, and I knew the night would be even more unsafe. But, without her, I cannot be. I went into my bathroom and took a look in the mirror. My face was impacted by age and injury, but none would say marred. My short hair, which had been longer for much of my life, sat there, motionless. I ran a comb through it out of habit, before quickly washing my face off. I left my home and locked the door, although I didn't expect to be found out here. The sun was still lowering, the evening throwing a cloth across the land, and the forest was black and still. The birds no longer sung their sweet songs, and the ditches and the branches were still. Without her, I count the hours, and the seconds aren't worth it. Without her, I am alone. I walked through the silent forest, the fir trees surrounding me, the world a monk in meditation. In the silence, I heard music, not from the outside world, but inside of my own mind. It was a beautiful composition, and I knew it well, as I had listened to it on loop, an inspiration for my latest song. As I walked the empty forest, searching, I saw a light shine in the darkness. As the light dimmed, I saw it was her, her dress flowing beautifully behind her. But, as I approached her, my chest became tight, my breathing heavy. I collapsed, gasping for breath. Nothing was alive in this forest, I felt. The blanket of darkness was cast upon me as well when she crouched before me, stroking my face. "Rest, my love", she said to me, as unconsciousness took me. I awoke, the sun slowly roasting my flesh, the birds singing once more. I was alone in the forest, laying where I had fallen before. I stood, lightheaded, and got my bearings. Remembering my path, I walked home, listening to the sounds and taking in the sights, in love with nature as always. I made it home and walked to the bathroom, wanting to make sure I was alright, as well as checking for ticks and other pests that make the outdoors their home. Stripping, I found bite marks and dryed blood, along with recently closed wounds, all the shape and size of a woman's mouth. Without You That's what the title means. It's in German, and the pasta is based off of the Rammstein song "Ohne Dich". Many of the translated lyrics are used throught the story, and the protaganist is intended to be Till Lindemann. The twist at the end is inspired by one of the remixes being called the "Mina Harker's Version". Whether or not Till's love is a vampire is up to you. PosthumanHeresy (talk) 01:26, March 3, 2014 (UTC) Category:Creepypasta Category:Creepypastas Category:Music Category:Original Story Category:Real Life